Honeyed Words
by RedMoonBear
Summary: Severus Snape is on the brink of hexing one of his students. Her honeyed words and perfect Hufflepuff spirit are enough to drive him around the bend. But is there something more to her, underneath the small smiles and kind words? Set in Potter's 3rd year.


Severus Snape had a serious problem on his hands.

He stormed through the dungeons, weaving and dodging through the throng of first and second year students, towards the Great Hall for lunch. His brain felt as though it was trying to expand out of his skull. Every year, it was always the same; he was always presented with untalented, idiotic eleven year olds and expected to make them into potioneers. He had managed not to hex a stupid Gryffindor girl after she decided to try and dip her fingers into a cauldron and _taste _the contents. Taste them, for Merlin's sake! The cauldron in question had been in a pile of dirty cauldrons awaiting a good scrubbing, and thus still had traces of potion lacquering the sides- a brew of Shrinking Solution that had gone horribly wrong. That she hadn't been poisoned and consequently died was down to his quick thinking and intervention.

Yet still, she had burst out of the classroom in a flood of crocodile tears when he had justly shouted at her and dispensed a detention (or 3). As if _he _were the one at fault! He had thought about just ending it there. Sometimes, he wasn't sure how he found the strength to get out of bed and teach these imbeciles.

He stormed into the Great Hall and took up his usual seat at the end of the staff table, sat next to Sinistra, who snorted at him. "That bad, Severus?" Aurora Sinistra was one of the few bearable professors at this school. She had a razor-sharp wit and at times an even sharper tongue. He did not appreciate her humour today, however.

He rubbed at his temples and scowled at her. "Am I the only one who thinks they are getting more insolent and stupid every year? I had a first year try to consume a faulty batch of Shrinking Solution this morning. I mean, really! What part of don't touch those cauldrons isn't easy enough to understand? If I didn't think that Dumbledore would have me sacked for allowing it, I may have just let her. Oh, and it's only the first day!"

Aurora carried on eating her cottage pie, but laughed lightly at him. "Ah yes, I heard about that from Miss Spencer. Apparently you made that first year cry." At that, his eyes cast down towards the Hufflepuff table, knowing full well what he'd see.

There she was, laughing richly, surrounded by adoring students from a mixture of houses (including, he thought sourly, his own). She flicked her long, curly honey-coloured hair over one shoulder. She seemed to exude lightness, and it showed in the faces of her fan club, who simpered at her adoringly and looked at her with wide, loving eyes. He immediately noticed that she had an arm wrapped around the first year who had caused him his headache, and that she was looking up at the elder girl like she'd just hung the moon itself.

How Ruby Spencer, one of the most popular girls at the school, was not Head Girl was beyond him. Beautiful, smart, athletic and painfully kind, she was the only reasonable female candidate.

He hated her. Ardently.

He hated the way she would glide through the halls with her adoring fan club, telling jokes and making them laugh obnoxiously and loudly. He hated the way that she always seemed to gravitate towards students in distress and comfort them with calming, honeyed words, always knowing just what to say. He hated the way that, whenever he turned to her in class, she would always be helping a struggling student. He hated that she indiscriminate in who she chose to dispense that kindness to, extending it to even the purebloods who despised her blood status. He hated that her kindness extended to Harry Potter as well. He hated her quiet, dignified maturity, maturity that she had somehow possessed even since her first day at Hogwarts.

He hated the way that, no matter how much he picked on her in class, she merely smiled at him gently, genially apologising for discretions that she hadn't really been responsible for in the first place. He hated the way that she delicately navigated his insults without seeming to be in any way affected by them. He hated the way that her pink lips twisted into a special, secret smile when she brewed a potion perfectly, the way her eyes twinkled when he told he that her potions were adequate. In truth, she was the best in her class by a mile and despite his efforts to pick holes in her work, there was little that she ever did wrong.

It was maddening. Because really, truly, he wanted to hate her so badly. He wanted to hate her perfection and her innocence. It reminded him- painfully so- of _her_.

Her eyes found his across the quiet of the hall, and she sent him a smile. Not a false smile filled with pity ,or a polite smile, both of which he was used to seeing, but a genuine small smile. Why had he come to lunch again? He thought as his head pounded. He ought to have known that she would be here. She gently grasped the shoulder of the little first year girl and pointed at him. The first year looked as though someone had cast petrificus totalus on her, and the colour drained from her face. He could see Ru-Miss Spencer shaking with gentle laughter, then giving the first year's hand a gentle squeeze, saying something to no doubt comfort the younger girl. Then, they both stood, the older girl holding the younger's hand.

He knew what was coming, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. She glided over to the staff table, allowing the first year to cling onto her hand, which had gone white. If she noticed the pain it caused her, she didn't show it, smiling down at the girl in a motherly way. Someday, she'd make a good mother, a small part of his brain supplied. He quashed the disturbing thought. He couldn't help but to study Miss Spencer's face as they approached. For just a moment she looked… tired?

They were in front of him now, but the first year looked too terrified to speak, seeming to realise this, Miss Spencer spoke in dulcet tones. "Pardon the intrusion, Professor Snape. I hope that we haven't disturbed you too much. Lucy here had something that she wanted to say to you." When the eleven year old failed to pipe up, she gave her a gentle nudge and said quietly. "Go on, show me some of that Gryffindor courage."

The little girl took in a deep breath and spoke in a flurry of words. "I'msosorryProfessorSnapeIdidn'tmeanto!" It was virtually unintelligible, and all he could do was raise a threatening brow. The girl looked mortified, her pale, pudgy face turning an unattractive shade of fire-engine red.

Miss Spencer laughed indulgently, smiling at the blushing girl kindly. "Perhaps a little slower, Lucy, so that he can understand you this time?" From anyone else, this may have seemed like harsh teasing, but she made the words sound compassionate.

The little Gryffindor took in another deep breath and, slower this time, apologised. "Professor Snape, I'm so sorry about what I did earlier. I can promise you that it won't happen again and that I will pay more attention in your classes from now on."

Severus wanted to scowl menacingly at the two girls, but knew that it would be an ineffective approach on the elder, even if it would send the younger scurrying away. So he settled instead for snapping. "If you ever do anything so stupid again, you will not be allowed back into my classroom, understood? And don't think I don't know that you're trying to get out of detention!" The threat was, for the most part, empty. For as much as he willed it otherwise, it was quite outside of his power to boot her, or any other student under 16, from his classes. But, she didn't know that yet.

The Gryffindor girl shrunk away from him, clutching onto the black and yellow robed girl, who was smiling at him with that damned twinkle in her eye, the look she got when she had been successful, though he couldn't think how she had been. "Thank you, Professor Snape. Lucy understands the seriousness of her transgression and will see you in detention. We'll leave you to your lunch now."

She took the Gryffindor around the shoulders and led her back to the table, sitting her down, and Severus looked down at his lunch. His headache had, somehow, mysteriously vanished.


End file.
